Mirror
by InterdimensionalHitchhiker84
Summary: A little bit of Mycroft and Col. Black. I ship it. Because why not? Slash.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is based around Colonel Excelsior Black from the BBC3 comedy 'Clone' and Mycroft Holmes from BBC 'Sherlock.' If you have questions, feel free to ask!_

_This is not a multi-chapter fic, just a collection of one-shots from the same universe. If you have an idea, let me know. :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own nor to I plan to own nor to claim ownership of Sherlock or Clone or any of the characters or settings presented within._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Mirror

Mycroft Holmes entered the meeting room with his typical blank face, hiding all reactions and gauging the room. His features were schooled into generic pleasantness, but not so pleasant as to attract unwanted attention. His blue striped tie was tucked neatly into his grey waistcoat, the golden chain of his pocket watch strung perfectly through its buttonhole. He quickly observed and found a spot where he could listen and present his information, but where he wouldn't be too bothered by people wanting to chat and undid the button on his suit jacket as he sat.

Truthfully, he would rather be just about anywhere than where he was. He despised these meetings. Everybody who thought they meant something blathered on at length about nothing and then expected everyone else to be excited about it. Mycroft mentally rolled his eyes, maintaining his outward calm and benevolent air. He watched as people entered the room and either took their seats or stopped to talk in groups around the edges of the room, internally calculating figures for his next set of documents while he was at it.

The next person to enter the room took him by surprise, though. It wasn't unusual to have military people at these kinds of events-by no means. No, they showed up all the time, always wanting to be informed of what the government was discussing. It wasn't the military uniform that drew his attention.

He observed the man as he made his way through the clusters of people and stood off to the side, obviously observing people. He was in a colonel's uniform, but he moved with an elegance not normally seen in the military. His hair was very much like Mycroft's own, though shorter. Reddish-brown and receding slightly, but in a dignified sort of way. He had perfect eyebrows and a well-defined nose and chin. He was obviously a man of some power, as he sneered down at people. People Mycroft wished he could sneer down at as well, but doing so would destroy him image.

Eventually, people settled down and the seats were all filled with suits and uniforms and irritating individuals. The meeting began and Mycroft endured the tedium of it all with practiced poise, focusing on the things that required his attention, and deleting all that didn't.

It was with some enthusiasm that he stood and turned to leave when it all drew to a close. He weaved quickly through the crowd and found his assistant helpfully waiting for him just outside. Smiling slightly, he accepted his briefcase, coat, and umbrella. He turned, though, when he heard a voice. He didn't have a clue why that particular voice drew his attention, but he didn't seem to have any control over it.

His eyes quickly found the source and he watched the scene play out n the other end of the hallway.

"Ah, what lovely socks you have there," the voice said. "Very… _festive_." Mycroft looked down at the socks of the person being addressed and had quite a lot of trouble suppressing a grin. They were just visible between the bottom of the man's uniform pants and his shoes-bright green with red stripes.

Mycroft heard the soldier under scrutiny nervously thank the colonel and said colonel snickered. The soldier walked away and the voice-which was the colonel's-said to a person in special-ops gear, "Kill him."

Mycroft's eyebrows went up involuntarily at that, but he was then distracted by his assistant nudging his arm.

"Are we leaving, Sir?"

Mycroft nodded and began to turn towards the exit, only to be stopped by the colonel walking swiftly towards him.

Stopping right in from on him, the man held out his hand. "Mycroft Holmes, is it? Colonel Excelsior Black." Mycroft shook his hand with careful calculation, finding it to be a remarkably pleasant handshake. "So good to make your acquaintance." His lips quirked up at a joke only inside his head. "I'd like to meet with you. Your office, six thirty." He smirked.

With the crease between his eyebrows significantly deeper than normal, Mycroft nodded. "Very well." Colonel Black saluted and turned on his heel, striding off towards something. Puzzling over the odd encounter, Mycroft followed his assistant outside and into the waiting car. They traveled in silence, him thinking things over and trying to puzzle out why the meeting was so odd.

o

Mr. Mycroft Holmes had trouble focusing on work through the rest of the afternoon, which puzzled him to no end. That never happened. When six-thirty rolled around, it found the normally perfectly put together man in quite a state. His suit jacket was hung over the back of his chair, waistcoat unbuttoned, tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. When he looked at the clock, he nearly panicked.

He didn't have time to, though, as at that moment, Colonel Excelsior Black was led into the office by Mycroft's assistant.

Quickly pretending to not be horribly frazzled, Mycroft sat back in his chair and smiled pleasantly. "Colonel Black, do have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

The colonel made himself right at home, peeling off his own jacket and rolling up his own sleeves as he sat in the chair Mycroft had offered, revealing a cream-colored shirt and tie with grey braces. He swiftly loosened his tie as well. "Whiskey, please."

Mycroft stood and retrieved the decanter and two glasses, filling them and bringing them over. "And what is it you wanted to see me about, Colonel?"

Colonel Black smiled menacingly as he took the proffered glass and leaned back in the chair. "We are much alike, you and I. I thought we might… form an alliance." His eyes flashed. "I thought I should at least make the offer."

"Oh?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows questioningly as he sipped his whiskey. "And what offer would that be?"

"Dinner?"

Mycroft straightened at the unexpected subject, taking a split moment to think things through. Slowly, a smile broke and spread across his face. "Dinner," he said, draining the rest of his glass and standing. He set to fixing his clothing, unrolling his sleeves and buttoning his waistcoat with practiced ease. In mere moments, he was back to looking the professional man he always was at heart. The colonel smiled as he watched.

"You know, I've ordered and administered the deaths of seven people today," he mused as he pulled his uniform jacket back on. "I'm in the mood for Italian."

Mycroft looked at his soon-to be-dinner companion in awe. He was right. Power.

At the end of the evening, Mycroft finally realized what he was seeing in this man. It was like looking into a distorted mirror. And it was beautiful.

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_So that, dear readers, is my attempt at the beautiful ship that is Colonel Black and Mycroft Holmes. They're both narcissistic enough to make it work. Reviews are appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Super fluffy and absolutely pointless, but I couldn't resist. _

_Enjoy!_

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That first Italian dinner was what Mycroft thought of as their first date. He'd tried to come up with a different term for it, but that was really what it was. He thought back on that night with a grin as he selected his tie for the day.

o

_The bill was brought and placed in the center of the table. Mycroft expected a fight over it, but to his extreme surprise, when he reached to grab it, the Colonel made no move to stop him. He paid it quickly and left a suitable tip before standing and looking down at his companion expectantly. _

_The colonel stood as well, a predatory grin coming across his face. They walked out to the waiting car, but before they could get in, Excelsior grasped Mycroft's shoulder and looked into the other man's eyes._

"_Mycroft," he said, drawing closer. He chuckled lightly now, his breath tickling Mycroft's left ear. "Next Thursday?" _

_Mycroft nodded, struggling to keep his composure. Excelsior pulled away swiftly then and with a quick quirk of a handsomely shaped eyebrow, began to stride away down the street, sneering happily at those around him._

_Taking a deep breath, Mycroft slid into the car and directed his driver to take him to his townhouse._

_o_

He selected a red tie and tied it expertly around his collar before buttoning his charcoal gray waistcoat. It was Thursday.

Mr. Mycroft Holmes went about his day's business with quiet composure, trying not to let the Colonel worm his way into his thoughts.

At six-thirty, he was waiting for his dinner companion, leaning up against his desk in a casual way. Excelsior Black stepped into the large office and grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Care to tell me about you day?" he asked jokingly.

Mycroft inclined his head politely and indicated the door, which they walked through together. Mycroft was determined to keep his head and stay on top of things this time.

They went to one of Mycroft's favorite restaurants and actually did speak about their days. Mycroft explained the monotony of running numbers for every department and tried not to lose his appetite when Excelsior spoke of how and why he'd killed three people that day.

Both of their jobs involved classified information, so they were unable to discuss anything in detail, but Mycroft found that it didn't really matter much.

When Excelsior pounced on him that evening, he was prepared and when his name was whispered in his ear, he returned the favor with a calm 'Excelsior.' The colonel chuckled at that before biting gently at Mycroft's ear. He flinched away slightly at the unexpected contact, his hand tightening around the fabric of the colonel's sleeve, but he found himself not displeased by the situation. "Next Friday?" he asked.

Excelsior pulled away, smiling, and nodded. "Friday."

Mycroft then opened the car door and slid inside before Excelsior got a chance to walk away, effectively becoming the one who left first.

The week dragged by and Friday came slowly. After lunch, he sat down at his desk to see a note tacked on top of his paperwork.

_Have to leave country for mission. Tomorrow._

_Col. Excels~~ Bl~~~_

The signature was more legible than most he'd seen. Most men were too lazy to even write that much. He tried not to feel anything as he put the note aside and attacked his paperwork with ferocity.

~o~

The next morning dawned late and was accompanied by a hangover, but Mycroft dressed quickly and went into the office as normal. Business didn't cease for the weekends.

When six-thirty came, he was still working, trying to stay on top of a sudden crisis. When the Colonel entered, Mycroft directed him with one hand to have a seat. Excelsior waited in silence for three minutes before standing and pulling off his jacket to throw over the chair.

With several large steps, he circled around the desk and leaned over Mycroft's shoulder, purposely pushing their heads together.

Mycroft took the hint, and with a sigh, set down his pen and stood up, offering his arm to Excelsior. "Dinner?"

The man stared intensely at Mycroft for a full twenty seconds before he nodded and took the other man's arm with a grin.

Mycroft had come to both love and fear these grins. They were unnerving.

Dinner was tense.

When the end of the evening came, though, Excelsior pushed Mycroft up against the side of the car. This was put to a swift end at the driver excited the car in record speed with a gun pointed at Excelsior's head. The colonel laughed, this turning swiftly into guffaws. "You?" he managed to choke out, "Kill me? HA!" Mycroft waved the driver back into the car and took his companion by the shoulders, glaring down at him in a way that would have had most grown men in tears and begging for mercy.

Excelsior took several deep breaths to steady himself before his face transformed into a thoughtful reminiscent longing. "I haven't laughed like that in years," he commented. Suddenly, he met Mycroft's gaze and stared into the other man's eyes.

After several long moments, he reached around to open the car door and nodded towards it. Without thinking, Mycroft slid in, Excelsior coming in after him. The colonel came up close to him, his mouth near the left ear once more. "Mycroft, you-" he nipped at the ear again, moving down to press a kiss against Mycroft's neck.

Taking charge of the situation, Mycroft pulled away enough to capture the colonel's face in his hands before taking the opportunity and capturing his mouth as well, engulfing them in a deep and passionate kiss.

"I haven't felt like that in six years," Excelsior mused. This time it was Mycroft with the smile.

"Come in for a drink?"

* * *

_Hope you liked it! If you have a prompt or something you'd like to see or any comments or ideas or anything at all, send them to me! Please!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	3. Chapter 3

_This one has a bit more substance and I absolutely adore it. Finally, Mycroft gets the upper hand._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

The meeting was another dull one. Mycroft had sat through it with the good grace of twenty well-bred English gentlemen, but had been thinking more about something he'd gotten from his contact in Russia than what the person leading the meeting had been driveling on about.

He twirled his umbrella as he listened to his assistant talk about the next meeting of the day. Apparently MI7 was producing some unreasonable costs without identifiable cause. Mycroft was supposed to go in and look at their books. He couldn't help but think that this would probably be worse than the meeting in terms of dullness. He slid into the back seat of the waiting car and pulled out the file with the reported figures.

Nothing looked quite right. It was as though they had taken an extraordinarily large cost and tried pass it off unnoticed by distributing it amongst the legitimate ones. And done quite the poor job of it—nobody spent that much on paper towels. Somebody was probably embezzling. It would be a simple matter of finding out who. Thankfully, this would probably only take a few minutes and then he could go back to his office and have a drink.

As the car pulled up to a relatively normal-looking government office building, Mycroft put the files back in the briefcase and stepped out of the car. He was accompanied by his PA through the light drizzle or British rain and into the building. Up three elevators, past seven security checkpoints, and down two long corridors, the government official was beginning to be more than a bit irritated. When Anthea finally indicated the correct room, he pushed open the door and scrunched his eyebrows in concentration.

Entering the room, he was hard-pressed to deduce what exactly was happening. There was one person working at a computer, a video feed from a camera seemingly attached to a person filling one screen. A man in a lab coat was arguing with someone who was probably manning the other monitors previously and a man in black tactical wear stood guard near the door.

Mycroft dismissed the office argument as beneath his notice for the time being and chose to ignore the guard as well. Addressing the man at the computer he asked about the filing system.

Looking absolutely terrified, the man quickly pointed to a set of filing cabinets on the other side of the room. "Everything's over there Sir, but you know we do most of the filing digitally." The man stuttered slightly, acting as though every word might endanger his well being. Mycroft frowned at that, but wanted nothing more than to be done with this whole business and leave, so he walked to the cabinets and began skimming through the papers.

The argument had ceased when the pair in the corner noticed his presence and they were now approaching his position carefully.

With a forced smile, Mycroft looked up from the papers and asked, "Yes?"

The man in uniform cleared his throat gently before speaking. "Colonel-"

Mycroft narrowed his eyes at the odd address, but the door banged opened, breaking off the young man's speech.

"Know me when you see me," came the voice from the doorway. A voice Mycroft knew well. The man in the lab coat turned to look at the doorway and fainted dead away, falling to the floor with a thud. The other man squeaked, his eyes widening. "Man your post." The young man scampered to obey, nearly falling from the chair as he sat. "Mr. Holmes, whatever can we do for you?"

"Colonel," Mycroft replied cautiously, "The Prime Minister felt that I ought to look at some of your budget issues."

"Budget issues?"

Mycroft nodded and looked back down at the records, subtly indicating to his assistant to keep an eye on the situation.

"Care if I watch?" the Colonel's tone was one that was always accompanied by flashing eyes and odd smiles. Mycroft said nothing, simply flipping a page and frowning at its contents.

It took only forty seconds for Colonel Black to get bored and leave, taking the young uniformed man with him. The man looked terrified. As soon as the door closed, he heard the unmistakable noise of an insertion of a needle into the neck and body falling to the floor.

Anthea looked alarmed, but Mycroft shot her a look telling her very clearly to do nothing, despite him feeling quite uncomfortable with the situation himself.

It took only another five minutes to sort out that there were two large money drains. One of them was the expense of the constant hiring of new workers and requisitioning of officers. The other was so great and in such increments that despite all reason, Mycroft couldn't see anything it could be but near-constant plane-trips around the world.

Unfortunately, this wasn't quite embezzling. Everybody in the top ranks of this facility had to be aiding in covering this up.

Colonel Black reentered the room just as he was coming to these disturbing conclusions.

"What exactly is it that you do here, Colonel?"

The man chuckled, unholstering his gun and examining it in the light. "I couldn't possibly tell you that, Mr. Holmes," he said, shooting the government official an enchanting and only slightly terrifying smile. "As you well know, it's top secret.

Mycroft hummed in agreement. "Yes, I suppose the real question, is whether these plane trips are for business or pleasure?"

Excelsior Black dropped his smile in an instant. "Whatever do you mean?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

Mycroft took his chance, knowing exactly where to press. "The real question," he repeated, standing and stepping closer to the Colonel, "is whether," he took another step, their faces only inches apart, "you're flying all over the world because you feel like it," he paused for effect, his breath hitting the Colonel's cheek, just as it had been done in reverse so many times now, "or because you messed up." Mycroft resisted the urge to laugh as the Colonel stiffened. "You're trying to rectify a mistake without the government finding out you made it. But that can't happen now, can it?"

Mycroft stepped away, gathering his things and striding quickly out of the room and away from the Colonel. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to the man he'd just left.

_'See you at 6:30.'_

Mycroft left the building significantly less bored and irritated than he had been when he'd entered—the effects of a puzzle well solved. It wasn't often he got the upper hand on the colonel either.

~o~

Six thirty found Mycroft in his office, just finishing filing away some of his papers. When Excelsior came in, it was with more energy than usual. He didn't even give Mycroft time to greet him. Striding across he room, he grabbed Mycroft's lapels and pushed him up against the edge of the desk, capturing his mouth in an excitingly energetic and passionate kiss which Mycroft returned wholeheartedly. "Mycroft," Excelsior gasped, "thanks to you, everyone knows the clone got away. Everyone knows that the millions of dollars of funding was wasted. That power- I'll lose my job, you know."

"That power is yours," Mycroft responded. "You won't lose your job."

Excelsior pulled away to look at Mycroft, asking with his eyes for clarification. Mycroft merely smiled before taking the top hand once more and pulling his colonel back for another kiss.

That's all their relationship was really—a competition of power. A constant struggle for dominance and control and the occasional surrender and acceptance of temporary weakness. And it was amazing. Mycroft loved every second.

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_Leave reviews please! I want to hear what you thought! Any little thing!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	4. Chapter 4

_I've had to bump up the rating for this chapter. I repeat, this chapter is __**rated M**for sexual content__. You have been warned._

_Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock nor Clone. _

_Enjoy!_

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IV

Mycroft heaved a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair as he ran his fingers through his hair. He'd have to get his hands dirty. He so hated getting physically involved with anything. Field work—he despised it. But Sherlock needed him. His little brother was in trouble and there simply wasn't any way around this.

The government official forced himself to stand from his desk chair. He smoothed his now-messy hair back into some kind of arrangement and picked up his suit jacket, pulling it over his shoulders. He was retrieving his umbrella when Excelsior came in through the door, on time as he always was.

Sometimes Mycroft kept the older man waiting, but nearly as often, he made sure he was ready to leave the second the colonel arrived. This day was one of the latter. "Ready to go, Colonel?"

Excelsior smirked. "Certainly, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft gave him a faint smile and they walked together out of the office building to the waiting car. As they sat in the restaurant, the colonel studied Mycroft's face. "You're awfully quiet tonight."

Mycroft grimaced. "Yes, I suppose I am." He took another sip of soup from his spoon before leaning back slightly and looking straight into his dinner companion's face. That in itself was a feat most would never dare attempt. "It's my brother, you see. He's gone and gotten himself kidnapped. He's being tortured as we speak."

A passionate glint that would seem to most to be entirely out of place in the current circumstances lit up behind the colonel's eyes. He folded his hands together and leaned forward, intently waiting to hear more from Mycroft. "Do continue."

"Sherlock Holmes. The great consulting detective—internet sensation. He faked his death some time ago. Nearly two years now—and after completing his objectives, he got careless."

"What do you plan to do?"

Mycroft's disgust at his upcoming task shined through his expression. He no longer bothered to hide most of what he thought or felt when around the colonel. It was pointless and unnecessary. "Well, I'll have to go and get him, I suppose. There's no other option, really."

Excelsior nodded slowly, aggressively ripping a bite from his roll and chewing thoughtfully. "But Mycroft, you so do dislike fieldwork. How about you let me handle it."

"Excuse me?" Mycroft was shocked. Nobody ever offered offered to help him with any of his work. Ever. All people ever did was pile more of their problems onto him. He was used to it. That was the order of things. And now Excelsior was taking the order and turning it on its head.

"It's quite simple, Mycroft. Field work is what I do. Give me his location and I'll bring him home." His face was oddly neutral. "If that's what you want, that is. It would of course, be much simpler to eliminate him. I could make it quick, for your benefit. It would take away the need for all the paperwork that would be necessary to resurrect him and prevent him from being such a nuisance in the future-"

"No."

"Hmm?"

"No, Excelsior. As irritating as Sherlock can be, Mummy would never forgive me if I allowed him to be...eliminated, no matter how quick and painless the process was. He will need to be retrieved."

Colonel Black looked quite put out, but he nodded as he sighed. "Very well. Give me the location and I'll bring him home."

"You would do that? Really?"

Colonel Black looked incredibly confused. "I don't make offers I don't intend to follow through with, Mycroft. You should know that."

The pair stared at each other for a long moment before Mycroft rose his hand to signal for the waiter and asked quickly for the bill.

"We've only had half of the first course."

"I'm aware."

The colonel narrowed his eyes, but said nothing as Mycroft paid and led the way out of the restaurant.

Just as soon as they were clear of the door, Mycroft spun around and pinned the colonel to a convenient wall, not giving Excelsior a chance to react at all before he roughly closed the space between their mouths.

The colonel, surprisingly, made none of his usual fight for dominance. He leaned up against the wall, snaking one arm around Mycroft's waist loosely while his other hand found purchase in the folds of Mycroft's sleeve. He relaxed entirely and let Mycroft have his way with him.

Mycroft wasn't sure what to make of Excelsior's submissiveness at first, but he didn't waste time pondering it. He shoved his tongue into the older man's mouth, exploring the territory as he had done several times before now. His left hand wove through the short, reddish hair to hold the head in place while his right hand crept down the colonels' side. He took a step forward and grabbed tightly onto Excelsior's arse as his upper thigh made gentle contact with his colonel's member, which quickly rose up in response to the touch.

He ended the kiss just as suddenly as it had began, taking a shallow breath before moving his mouth to Excelsior's neck. He found the tender spot where the neck met the jaw and bit at it, kissing and sucking at the spot in response to the quick hiss and intake of breath and the quickly tensing muscles. When the colonel had relaxed a bit again, Mycroft didn't hesitate to sink his teeth in once more before trailing down to the edge of the other man's collar and breathing deeply to take in the pleasant scent.

As some of the passion faded away, Mycroft just standing and breathing in and out as he held the colonel close, Excelsior took charge as he normally did from the very start of any of their encounters. Tightening his grip around Mycroft's waist, he ground into the other man's thigh and he reached his head forward to bite at an earlobe.

Mycroft responded by leaning into and then quickly away from the touches, meeting the gleaming, wild eyes, with his own, slightly cooler ones. "We should continue this at my townhouse," he said hoarsely.

Excelsior's grip on Mycroft's upper arm loosened only slightly as they walked together to the car and climbed into the back seat. The door had barely closed before Excelsior attacked Mycroft again, pushing and pulling the suit jacket off of him before tightening his grasp painfully around the tense upper arm. He quickly found the ear he favored and bit at it almost hungrily as his free hand wandered up and down his companion's side.

Mycroft buried his face in Excelsior's shoulder, breathing in and out deeply, refusing to make a sound as teeth pinched his skin. His hand found the colonel's arse again and he squeezed, hard. Excelsior responded by biting down especially hard right below the ear and moving his hand from Mycroft's side to his half-hard erection. He fisted the younger man roughly and Mycroft could no longer hold back a tiny whimper.

Mycroft felt the man smirk into his neck as he licked the place he had bit and he looked up from the shoulder to pull away far enough to set about ripping the tie from the colonel's neck and opening up the collar. He bared the shoulder as quickly as he could and bit down on it. He felt the colonel's grin only grow in response to the burst of pain and his hand sped up its motions around Mycroft's crotch.

The government man took several deep breaths and pushed away, coughing gently. "No."

Anger flashed briefly through the colonel's eyes.

"No, we need to wait until we get inside the house."

Excelsior raised both his hands in a signal of compliance and leaned back in the seat, re-buttoning his shirt lazily.

* * *

Mycroft steadfastly kept his eyes and hands off of his companion through the whole rest of the drive, but he could feel the colonel staring at him, the intensity of it making even breathing a difficulty. When the car stopped and the driver came around to open the door, it took nearly every ounce of self control he possessed to continue looking only forwards. He nodded at the driver at moved to the door, pulling a key out of his pocket without looking back. He left the front door open behind him as he dropped his umbrella, coat, and briefcase in the front hall and he heard it close as he walked into the kitchen. He collected two glasses and filled them quickly with some kind of strong liquor—Mycroft was too caught up in other things to care what kind—and had brought one of them to his lips by the time Excelsior came into view.

The other man looked as put together as always and he cocked an eyebrow as he took the other glass and sipped at it, leaning against the counter as he stared at Mycroft.

Mycroft gulped down the contents of the glass and poured himself another, downing that right after. He set the glass down on the counter with a hard clink and walked around the colonel, determinately not looking into the man's face.

He heard the other glass come to rest on the counter and footsteps follow him as he made his way up the stairs toward the bedroom.

Mycroft gulped nervously as he opened the bedroom door and folded his suit jacket neatly over the back of a chair. His waistcoat followed the jacket and it was only a few seconds after when the colonel's crumpled uniform jacket found its way to the small pile. Mycroft closed his eyes as he felt two large hands grasp the material of his shirt and pull it up out of his trousers. One of the hands then slid up under the shirt, grasping tightly at Mycroft's flesh. The other hand tossed a tie onto the chair.

Mycroft unbuttoned his shirt and then turned around to bravely face his colonel, refusing to show any of his nerves as he unbuttoned the other shirt. Those large hands slid the material off of his shoulders and he let them throw the shirt onto the pile growing behind him.

Mycroft quickly undid the braces and removed the colonel's shirt for him, folding it neatly before tossing it over to the pile. He didn't even have time to gasp as the colonel undid his belt buckle and the front of his trousers and shoved them to the floor. Mycroft stepped out of them and his shoes, feeling ridiculously vulnerable in only his socks and pants, and set about removing Excelsior's trousers as well.

Those large hands didn't give him a second of peace as they pulled down his pants for him and shoved him towards the bed. Mycroft stumbled a bit as he bent to remove his socks, then sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Excelsior to follow him.

The colonel looked overwhelmingly predatory and Mycroft had a nearly overpowering desire to shrink, but, fighting his instincts, he stood up again and grabbed his colonel's shoulders, spinning them around and forcing Excelsior to sit. Mycroft then straddled his colonel on the bed, forcing the older man to lie down on his back.

He quickly latched onto the darkening spot on Excelsior's shoulder and bit down on it again, feeling the body beneath him twitch gently in response. One of the colonel's hands found its way quickly into Mycroft's hair, holding his head in place. Mycroft didn't fight it because he didn't want to move anyways. So, the fingers pulling gently at his hair did nothing but encourage him to bite and suck at the shoulder, collarbone, and neck even harder, coloring wide swaths of skin with bright pink, red, and purple marks.

Mycroft couldn't help but jump and yelp in surprise though, when Excelsior's other large hand creeped down his side, around his arse, and down into his crack, only for one of the fingers to push insistently at the hole.

Excelsior chuckled and slid farther onto the bed, pulling a heavily blushing Mycroft up with him. Pulling at the hair in his grasp, Excelsior lead Mycroft's face to his own and trapped the man's lips in a heated kiss. The colonel's teeth nipped at lips and tongue alike as his fingers continued to press teasingly at Mycroft's hole, not yet forcing entrance, but making Mycroft jump and whimper slightly under the touches all the same.

Mycroft, trying to regain some kind of momentary control to calm his racing heart, bit back, his teeth knocking against Excelsior's. The man laughed beneath him and Mycroft reached down with his right hand to grasp the colonel's erection. He squeezed the flesh, eliciting a gasp of shock from the mouth beneath his own. Mycroft smiled and nipped once more at Excelsior's tongue before ripping his hair from his grasp and sitting up. He leaned over the colonel, barely able to reach the handle of the drawer of the side table.

Seeing where Mycroft was going, Excelsior allowed him to retrieve the things without much interference. However, he rolled onto his side and traced his fingers distractingly across the man's bare skin. When he could see Mycroft held the two condoms and tube of lubricant in his hands, Excelsior rolled over a little more and pinned Mycroft underneath him as he bit down at the edge of a shoulder blade. He raked his teeth all across the back, biting at the base of the neck and leaving a wide trail of saliva all the way down the spine. Mycroft trembled under him, hissing in response to the bites and touches, most traces of self control abandoned somewhere along the way.

Excelsior rolled over again and let Mycroft sit up, taking one of the condoms with a grin. He dripped a bit of the offered lube inside before pulling it on and then slathered the outside in more of the cool, smooth stuff.

Mycroft made quick work of copying the colonel before setting the lube back on the top of the bedside table. When he looked down, a gasp was escaping his lips, followed by a groan as he leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes. His colonel's mouth was around his member, sucking playfully and tracing patterns along it with his tongue and mercifully gentle teeth. The colonel's hands gripped Mycroft's hips solidly, preventing him from moving too much, and Mycroft grasped the bedspread tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried not to buck up into Excelsior's mouth.

Excelsior laughed around him, creating a tingling, vibrating sensation that nearly had Mycroft curling up into himself. "Excelsior," he moaned.

The colonel released his erection with a wet pop and looked up at Mycroft questioningly.

"Where...where are we going with this?"

"Really, Mycroft?" he said, his face scrunched up into an expression that appeared almost pitying. He then sighed deeply and sat back on his heels. "Fine. I'm going to fuck you into the sheets until you beg for mercy and then do it some more. It really seemed fairly self-explanatory from the get-go. And you _did_ start this."

Mycroft swallowed, trying to sooth his dry throat, then he sat up. He nodded thoughtfully. "You have forty minutes to have your way with me, and then we turn the tables. Agreed?" His voice sounded rough and slightly shaky, but it was also confident.

Excelsior raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a full BDSM scene with a switch?"

Mycroft nodded again. "Both of us want dominance and neither of us is willing to give it up."

Excelsior narrowed his eyes.

"We can stick to a standard safe-word. Red, yellow, green, I think."

The colonel's eyes narrowed even more and he stayed frozen for several long seconds. Then he nodded. "We can try that."

Mycroft's lips twitched into a sort of half smile. In one swift movement, Excelsior rose from the bed, ending up standing at the end of it, his tie in his left hand and Mycroft's tie in his right.

Mycroft swallowed again.

A few minutes later, his elbows were tied together behind his back and he was biting down on the fabric in his mouth, his face pressed into the pillows as his bare arse reached for the sky. Excelsior lubed up his fingers and began pressing at the hole, similarly to how he'd done before, but with more force this time. Mycroft shivered and moaned into the makeshift gag as he struggled to maintain his position, Excelsior not taking more than a few seconds to spread his cheeks wide apart and force two of his fingers into the puckered orifice, massaging the inside and moving his fingers to spread it wide.

A third finger soon joined the two and Mycroft shuddered at the painful stretching. Excelsior began moving the three fingers in and out, finger-fucking him until the muscles relaxed slightly into the stretched position. And then a fourth finger entered him and Mycroft groaned loudly.

It wasn't long at all before Excelsior was pounding into him mercilessly, his prediction of Mycroft begging coming true.

An hour after that though, Excelsior Black was experiencing something he never had before and was relishing the unknown feeling of being completely dominated. All of his senses and instincts were telling him that he was in terrible danger, but as he moaned into the pillows, somehow, he couldn't care less.

And Mycroft couldn't help smiling as he watched his colonel fall completely apart beneath him.

When the pair fell asleep that night, it was to the rhythm of their rapidly beating hearts and in an embrace the likes of which neither of them had felt before. Somehow, giving up control was no longer impossible for either of them.

* * *

When Mycroft woke up to his usual alarm, early morning sun was just beginning to shine through the windows. He slid from the bed, showered and dressed, and made a call into his office, saying he wouldn't be in to work. He then made his way back to his bed and sat on the edge, fingers reaching out to touch the dark purple spot on Excelsior's shoulder.

In just a few seconds and a single movement, the colonel had Mycroft pinned up against the wall, an arm pressing against his throat. Mycroft coughed, a blush of embarrassment rising to his cheeks, and Colonel Black took a step back.

"Good morning, Mycroft."

"Yes," another cough, "quite."

"You said your brother needed tending to, yes?" Excelsior continued as if nothing untoward had happened, reaching for his pants.

"Yes. I've got all the intel ready, but I'm afraid it will take me several hours to become fluent in Serbian."

Excelsior shook his head. "No, no, no. That's not a problem."

Mycroft looked at him incredulously.

"I'll tell you about it later, if you like." The colonel finished tying his tie and grabbed his jacket from the chair. "Breakfast?"

"My cook should have made something."

* * *

When the pair pulled up to Colonel Black's office building in Mycroft's car, they proceeded up the several levels to a room with a large map where they planned out their mission.

"Xелло, dead men," the Colonel said menacingly, turning around with an odd, lopsided expression on his face.

Very soon, Colonel Black and his kill team were on a plane bound for Serbia and Mycroft was sitting and waiting in the Colonel's office.

* * *

Sherlock's only response to seeing Mycroft and Excelsior together was a wide-eyed, shocked expression which bordered on horror.

"So," Excelsior said, standing rigidly with his hands behind his back, "that's that then."

Mycroft nodded. "That's that. Thank you."

Excelsior looked at him. "I don't like him. I could have had him tortured a bit longer in the safety of the basement."

"That most likely will not be necessary, Colonel. And I don't think I want to know any more about it." Mycroft touched Excelsior's shoulder, digging his thumb expertly into the bruise and receiving a slight tremor in response. "Thursday at six thirty, then?"

Colonel Black grinned. "Let's make it Tuesday."

* * *

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_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


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